CHAPTER XXV.
CHESTER MEETS ANOTHER ARTIST.
"Where do you wish me to work?" asked Chester, after a pause.
"You can work at home, but you can call at the office every day toleave your work and receive instructions."
"All right, sir. When do you wish me to commence?"
"At once. Have you any work ready? I asked because we want to get outthe first number as soon as possible."
"I have one sketch and have several ideas jotted down."
"Good! Deliver as much as possible to-morrow."
Chester returned home in a high state of exultation. He would be paidless for individual sketches, but, on the other hand, he would have asteady income and an assured market for all he might produce. It seemeda wonderful promotion from five dollars a week to twenty-five. To besure, when in the real estate office he had picked up extracompensation for outside work, but this was precarious and could not bedepended on. With twenty-five dollars a week he would feel rich. Thisset him to considering that he must have a better room if he was to dowork at home. In the same house where he now occupied a hall bedroomwas a large, square room well lighted with two windows, well furnishedand having a good writing desk, left by some previous tenant in partpayment of arrears of rent, which he could have for five dollars aweek. He had often thought he would like to occupy it, and wished hemight find an agreeable roommate who would share the expense with him.Now he felt that he could bear the expense alone. He lost no time insecuring it and moving his few belongings in.
Mrs. Crosby, his landlady, was rather surprised.
"You must be doing well," she said.
Chester smiled.
"I have been discharged from my position in the real estate office," hesaid.
"Then," said the landlady, in some dismay, "isn't it imprudent to takea more expensive room?"
"I have secured a much better place."
"Oh! that alters the case. Is it likely to be permanent?"
"If I lose it I will go back to my old room."
"I am sure I am glad to hear of your good luck, Mr. Rand. It is veryseldom that a young man of your age----"
"Call me a boy. I am not a young man yet."
"You seem to be getting on as well as a young man. I think you are realsmart."
"You mustn't flatter me, Mrs. Crosby. You will make me vain. I forgotto say that I shall be a considerable part of the time in my room. Thatis why I want a larger one."
"But when will you work?" asked the landlady, puzzled.
"I shall work in my room."
"But what work can you do there?"
"I am an artist; that is, I am to make drawings for a new magazine."
"You don't say so? Will that pay?"
"Very handsomely."
"I hope you will show me some of them. I never met an artist before."
"I am afraid I am not much of an artist. I can show you one of mypictures now."
Chester took from the table a number of _Puck_ and pointed out asketch.
"That's pretty good," said the landlady. "You wouldn't get more thanthirty-five cents for such a picture, would you?"
"I was paid five dollars for that."
"Do tell!" exclaimed Mrs. Crosby, who was brought up in a country townand still used some of the expressions which were familiar to her inearly days. "I can't hardly believe it. It seems foolish to pay so muchfor such a little thing."
"I don't think it foolish, Mrs. Crosby. It must pay them, or theywouldn't keep on doing it."
Chester moved into his new room and enjoyed his ample accommodationsvery much. The next day he went to the office of _The Phoenix_ andcarried in two sketches. They were fortunate enough to win the approvalof the editor.
"I see you are practical and understand what we want, Mr. Rand," hesaid. Just behind Chester was a man of fifty, rather shabby andneglectful in his personal appearance. He might be described as anartist going to seed. Whatever talent he might have had originally hadbeen dulled and obscured by chronic intemperance.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, deferentially, "but I would like to submit acouple of sketches. I am Guy Radcliff."
"Glad to see you, Mr. Radcliff. Let me examine them."
"I am afraid," said the editor, after a brief examination, "that theseare not quite what we want."
"Is it possible?" exclaimed Mr. Radcliff, indignantly. "You scorn mywork, yet accept the sketches of that boy!" pointing at Chester withwithering contempt.
"Because he has given me what I want."
"I was a famous artist before he was born."
"Very likely, and had done good work. But this is not good work."
"Sir!"
"My dear sir, don't be offended. I don't care for the age of any of mycontributors. I know something of your famous successes, and I hopenext time to approve and buy what you bring me."
Mr. Radcliff seemed only half propitiated. He and Chester went outtogether.
"What is your name, boy?" asked the artist.
"Chester Rand."
"I never heard of you."
"I am only a beginner," said Chester, modestly.
"You seem to have got in with Fleming."
"I may not keep in with him."
"Are you doing pretty well?"
"Yes, for a boy."
"Have you got a loose quarter about you? I haven't done much worklately, and am hard up."
Chester took half a dollar from his pocket and handed it to the elderman. His compassion was stirred as he felt for Radcliff's humiliationin being obliged to make such an appeal to a boy like himself.
"Thank you. You're a gentleman. I'll return it soon," said Radcliff,looking relieved. "Good luck to you! You're a good fellow, after all."
"I wish you good luck, too, Mr. Radcliff."
Chester did not need to be told what had brought the elder artist intosuch an impecunious condition. His face with its unnatural flush showedthat his habits had been far from creditable.
"If I needed anything to keep me from drinking, Mr. Radcliff's examplewould be sufficient," thought Chester. He had before now been invitedto take a drink at some convenient saloon, but he had never beentempted to do so.
Two days later Chester was walking through Union Square when he cameface to face with Felix Gordon.
Felix espied him first.
"Hello! Chester," said his successor.
"Hello! I didn't see you."
"I envy you."
"Why?"
"You have nothing to do but to enjoy yourself," answered Felix,significantly.
"Oh, that's it!" said Chester, smiling. He saw that Felix thought himto be out of employment.
"That was the case with you before you succeeded me in the real estateoffice. How do you like it?"
"Pretty well, but I think I ought to get more salary. You got fivedollars, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"I will try and get six when Mr. Fairchild gets back."
"I wish you success."
"You don't feel any grudge against me for taking your place?"
"No; it wasn't you who got me discharged."
"I thought you'd be in to get a letter of recommendation from cousinDavid."
"Would he give me one?"
"I don't know. Are you trying to get a place?"
"No."
Felix looked surprised.
"You ain't rich, are you?" he asked.
"No; what makes you ask?"
"I don't see how you can live without any salary."
"I couldn't. I ought to tell you that I have got a place."
"You have?" exclaimed Felix, in surprise, and it must be confessed,disappointment.
"Yes."
"Where is it?"
"In the office of a new paper."
"What is it?"
"_The Phoenix_, a comic paper just started."
"Where is the office?"
"In Nassau Street."
"Then why are you not there?"
"I don't have to be there all
the time."
"Do you get good pay?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"I get more than I did at the real estate office."
"You don't say!"
"Yes. I was in luck."
"Do you get six dollars?"
"More. I don't care to tell you just how much I get."
"By the way, there was an old man in the office yesterday inquiringafter you."
"Did he give his name?"
"Yes. He said his name was Silas Tripp."
"What on earth brought Mr. Tripp to New York?" Chester asked himself.
This question will be answered in the next chapter.